


And The Tide Rolled In

by tariana



Category: NSYNC
Genre: Beaches, Cancer, Gen, Heavy Angst, M/M, Sunsets, Terminal Illnesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 18:04:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13013229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tariana/pseuds/tariana
Summary: Justin and JC have a final visit. Heed the warnings, please.





	And The Tide Rolled In

Justin sat silently on the sand. His ass was damp and chilly, but he was completely unwilling to move. His toes dug in and out of the sand, leaving the cold grit between them. He was carefully not looking at JC. He preferred to remember--

'Jesus, he's not dead yet.'

He preferred to think of -- that was slightly better, slightly less final -- he preferred to think of JC as vigorous, as hyper, as spazzy, as he always was. He preferred to think of times when there had been tightly corded muscles on JC's upper arms, of times when the luxuriant mop of hair still grew -- hair that was now nearly gone, what was left of it short, fine and hidden under a bandanna.

Justin hadn't seen JC in nearly a year. Life and the excuses that make up so much of it had gotten in the way. He'd been around during the first battle with the dirty, sneaky bastard the medical community called liver cancer -- they all had, because the group was still together then. Well, still making albums, anyway. Justin thought, looking back, that things between them had really started going bad about the time JC's liver went mental and started spitting out rogue cells.

At that time, Lance had almost totally moved on and was really only concentrating on his growing film career. He could sometimes be bothered to show up for appearances, other times not. Chris and Dani had pulled things back together for the umpteenth time, Joey and Kelly had another kid, and Justin had been working on his second solo album.

Then the group had broken up. It wasn't bad. There were no punches thrown, no insults, no yelling. They'd all cited the reasons why they weren't interested in continuing this anymore, and the end result of all their justifications had been that it just didn't feel good anymore. They'd issued their statements to the press and gone on to other things.

By that time, JC's cancer was in remission with every indication it would stay that way. He'd bought a little house right on the beach in Pass Christian, Mississippi when he and Lance were together -- in love? -- in the late nineties, and although he hadn't spent much time there in the years since he and Lance had parted company, JC suddenly sold his house in California and moved permanently to Mississippi.

Justin and JC now sat only about fifty yards from that house -- a weather-beaten blue exactly the color of JC's eyes, it stood on short stilts in defiance to the elements, as JC had stood in defiance to the cancer that had come back to ravage his body again.

Had stood, yes, but wasn't standing anymore. JC's purpose in calling Justin the day before yesterday-- although JC hadn't said so much -- was to say goodbye. Justin was sure there had been other calls, or would be when he left -- to the other guys, to the few members of their vast entourage that any of them still had anything to do with, to anyone else that was important to JC in some way.

From Justin's left came a soft chuckle, and Justin looked sharply over at JC. JC turned his head and his eyes met Justin's. JC's eyes, those eyes that had always been large and luminous, but which now seemed positively huge, nearly glowed in the soft light of the setting sun.

"You remember," JC begun, and then had to clear his throat. The few times he'd spoken since Justin had arrived early that afternoon, his voice had held a raspy, rattly quality that Justin didn't like, and he wondered if the cancer had advanced to JC's lungs or his throat. There would be no more belting out songs for JC Chasez, that was for sure.

JC talked for quite a few minutes, and Justin let him. JC's rambling one-sided conversation covered everything from the Mickey Mouse Club to things that had happened with *NSYNC to a couple of songs he was currently writing, but most likely wouldn't have time to finish.

JC had been silent for a few moments when he picked up his windbreaker from where he'd tossed it on the sand earlier and put it on, wrapping his arms tightly around himself.

"You want to go in?" Justin asked, gesturing toward the house.

"No, I don't." JC gestured at the sunset -- vibrant and heartbreaking, unbelievable shades of purple, turquoise, and orange. "I don't know how many more of these I have--"

"Don't talk like that, Josh."

"Don't, Justin."

Justin was quiet, and JC carefully moved over next to him, leaning his head on Justin's shoulder. Justin wrapped his arms around the frail shadow of a man who had once been his best friend, and they sat, looking out at the sunset -- vibrant and heartbreaking, unbelievable shades of purple, turquoise, and orange.

And the tide rolled in.

Three weeks later, Justin returned to the beach, this time carrying a small grey urn. When what remained of the man who had once been his best friend had been scattered to the winds, Justin wrapped his arms around himself and stood looking out at the sunset -- vibrant and heartbreaking, unbelievable shades of purple, turquoise, and orange.

And the tide rolled in.


End file.
